Tess Gerritsen - Keeper of the Bride

“Oh, Sam.” She stepped toward him, her hands rising to caress his face. “I don’t expect you to be my guardian. Last night, I wanted to take care of you. I was so happy to do it.”

“I’m the cop, Nina. I’m responsible for your safety.”

“For once, can’t you stop being a cop? Can’t you let me take care of you? I’m not so helpless. And you’re not so tough that you don’t need someone. When I was scared, you were there for me. And I want to be here for you. ”

“I’m not the one who could get killed.” He took both her hands and firmly lowered them from his face. “This isn’t a good idea, getting involved, and we both know it. I can’t watch out for you the way I should. Any other cop could do a better job.”

“I don’t trust any other cop. I trust you.”

“And that could be a fatal mistake.” He pulled away, gaining himself some breathing space. Anything to put distance between them. He couldn’t think clearly when she was so near; her scent, her touch, were too distracting. He turned and matter-of-factly poured himself a cup of coffee, noting as he did it that his hand wasn’t quite steady. Her effect, again. Not looking at her, he said, “It’s time to focus on the case, Nina. On finding Spectre. That’s the best way to ensure your safety. By doing my job and doing it right.”

She said nothing.

He turned and saw that she was gazing listlessly at the table. It had already been set with silverware and napkins, glasses of juice, and a small crock of maple syrup. Again he felt that stab of regret. I’ve finally found a woman I care about, a woman I could love, and I’m doing my best to push her away.

“So,” she said softly. “What do you propose, Sam?”

“I think another man should be assigned to protect you. Someone who has no personal involvement with you.”

“Is that what we have? A personal involvement?”

“What else would you call it?”

She shook her head. “I’m beginning to think we have no involvement at all.”

“For God’s sake, Nina. We slept with each other! How can two people get more involved than that?”

“For some people, sex is purely a physical act. And that’s all it is.” Her chin tilted up in silent inquiry. For some people.

Meaning me?

Damn it, he refused to get caught up in this hopeless conversation. She was baiting him, trying to get him to admit there was more to that act of lovemaking than just sex. He was not about to admit the truth, not about to let her know how terrified he was of losing her.

He knew what had to be done.

He crossed the kitchen to the telephone. He’d call Coopersmith, ask him to assign a man to pull guard duty. He was about to pick up the receiver when the phone suddenly rang.

He answered it with a curt “Navarro.”

“Sam, it’s me.”

“Morning, Gillis.”

“Morning? It’s nearly noon. I’ve already put in a full day here.”

“Yeah, I’m hanging my head in shame.”

“You should. We’ve got that lineup scheduled for one o’clock. Bellhops from five different hotels. You think you can bring Nina Cormier down here to take a look? That is, if she’s there with you.”

“She’s here,” admitted Sam.

“That’s what I figured. Be here at one o’clock, got it?”

“We’ll be there.” He hung up and ran his hand through his damp hair. God. Nearly noon? He was getting lazy. Careless. All this agonizing over him and Nina, over a relationship that really had nowhere to go, was cutting into his effectiveness as a cop. If he didn’t do his job right, she was the one who’d suffer.

“What did Gillis say?” he heard her ask.

He turned to her. “They’ve scheduled a lineup at one o’clock. Want you to look at a few hotel bellhops. You up to it?”

“Of course. I want this over with as much as you do.”

“Good.”

“And you’re right about turning me over to another cop. It’s all for the best.” She met his gaze with a look of clear-eyed determination. “You have more important things to do than baby-sit me.”

He didn’t try to argue with her. In fact, he didn’t say a thing. But as she walked out of the kitchen, leaving him standing alone by that cozily set breakfast table, he thought, You’re wrong. There’s no more important job in the world to me than watching over you.

EIGHT MEN STOOD on the other side of the one-way mirror. All of them were facing forward. All of them looked a little sheepish about being there.

Nina carefully regarded each man’s uniform in turn, searching for any hint of familiarity. Any detail at all that might trip a memory.

She shook her head. “I don’t see the right uniform.”

“You’re absolutely certain?” asked Gillis.

“I’m certain. It wasn’t any of those.”

She heard an undisguised snort of disappointment. It came from Norm Liddell, the D.A. who was standing next to Gillis. Sam, poker-faced, said nothing.

“Well, this was a big waste of my time,” muttered Liddell. “Is this all you’ve come up with, Navarro? A bellhop roundup?”

“We know Spectre was wearing some sort of uniform similar to a bellhop’s,” said Sam. “We just wanted her to look over a few.”

“We did track down a police report of that bike accident,” said Gillis. “The bicyclist himself called it in. I think he was worried about a lawsuit, so he made a point of stating that he hit the man outside a crosswalk. Apparently, Spectre was jaywalking when he was hit on Congress Street.”

“Congress?” Liddell frowned.

“Right near the Pioneer Hotel,” said Sam. “Which, we’ve found out, is where the Governor plans to stay day after tomorrow. He’s the guest speaker at some small business seminar.”

“You think Spectre’s target is the Governor?”

“It’s a possibility. We’re having the Pioneer checked and double-checked. Especially the Governor’s room.”

“What about the Pioneer’s bellhops?”

“We eliminated all of them, just based on height and age. No one’s missing any fingers. That one there — number three — is the closest to Spectre’s description. But he has all his fingers, too. We just wanted Nina to take a look at the uniform, see if it jogged a memory.”

“But no one in that lineup is Spectre.”

“No. We’ve looked at everyone’s hands. No missing fingers.”

Nina’s gaze turned to number three in the lineup. He was dressed in a bellhop’s red jacket and black pants. “Is that what all the Pioneer’s bellhops wear?” she asked.

“Yeah,” said Gillis. “Why?”

“I don’t think that’s the uniform I saw.”

“What’s different about it?”

“The man I saw in the ER — I’m just remembering it — his jacket was green. Sort of a forest green. It was definitely not red.”

Gillis shook his head. “We got us a problem then. The Holiday Inn’s uniform is red, too. Marriott’s green, but it’s not located anywhere near the bicycle accident.”

“Check out their staff anyway,” Liddell ordered. “If you have to interview every bellhop in town, I want this guy caught. And I sure as hell want him caught before he blows up some high-muck-a-muck. When’s the Governor arriving tomorrow?”

“Sometime in the afternoon,” said Gillis.

Liddell glanced at his watch. “We have a full twenty-four hours. If anything comes up, I get called. Got it?”

“Yes, sir, your highness,” muttered Gillis.

Liddell glanced sharply at him, but obviously decided to drop it. “My wife and I’ll be at the Brant Theater tonight. I’ll have my beeper with me, just in case.”

“You’ll be first on our list to call,” said Sam.